


The Child that Never Laughed or Cried

by ezratherobat



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Angst, Gen, Gender-Neutral My Unit | Byleth, Raising Byleth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-30
Updated: 2020-08-30
Packaged: 2021-03-06 15:33:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26201203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ezratherobat/pseuds/ezratherobat
Summary: Some thoughts on Jeralt raising an "emotionless" child.
Relationships: Jeralt Reus Eisner & My Unit | Byleth
Kudos: 29





	The Child that Never Laughed or Cried

Jeralt thought about killing it more than once in those first few months. It didn’t laugh or cry. It’s heart didn’t even beat. It didn’t seem human at all. But every time Jeralt almost raised a hand to kill it, he remembered Sitri’s face when she was pregnant. How much she loved the little thing he now held in his arms and he couldn’t do it.

It grew older, everyday looking more and more like Sitri and Jeralt completely abandoned any remaining thoughts of getting rid of it. But still it didn’t laugh or cry or speak a word. Just stared at him, eyes piercing like it could see all yet dull like it understood nothing, felt nothing.

Jeralt wondered what kind of inhuman the child would be, An empty doll that wandered about and did as it was told or a cruel and cold monster. Or maybe they would become a kind person like Sitri if was just accepting and open enough.

Byleth was about 6 years old when they spoke their first words. He was about to leave for a job, leaving Byleth alone with someone he trusted to look after them. But Byleth grabbed one of his fingers with their whole, tiny hand and said, “Papa, don’t leave me behind.”

He couldn’t very well ignore his child’s first words, their first request.

Especially not when the request was something he knew Sitri always wanted to ask but never could. So against better judgement, Jeralt took the child with him.

It only took a few more years for Byleth to stand beside him in battle, sword in their hands, cutting down their foes with the same blank expression they did everything with. People had begun to call them the Ashen Demon.

But Jeralt knew they were wrong. His child wasn’t a demon. Their heart may not beat but they still inherited Sitri’s kindness.

He raised the child away from the church’s influence, made sure they knew next to nothing of it. Whatever Rhea did to them... he wouldn’t let her continue.

But then they just had to rescue those noble brats and be dragged back to the monastery. It wasn’t all bad though. Because they looked happy. His expressionless child actually looked happy. He had learned to read them somewhat but his skills were no longer necessary anymore. Now their brow furrowed in anger or worry and their lips curled up in happy smiles.

And when he laid in their arms, a knife in his back, they cried.

**Author's Note:**

> Open to drabble requests. Check out my tumblr privatedick-extraordinaire.


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